Page 22 of Hunted

“You want me to take a look in the back while you guys go in the front?” Chris offers, unsnapping his seat belt.

I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror as I consider it. “Just walk around. If you find anything suspicious, don’t track yet. It might be a trap.”

Bennett nods. “Agreed. If there was nothing at the hiking cabins, means there’s more chance whoever it is must be staying here.”

We get out of the car and slam the doors shut. Chris wanders around the back of the building as Bennett and I enter through the front, a small silver bell jingling as we step into the entryway. It’s an older building, one of the oldest in town, with glossy parquet floors and black balustrades leading up to the rooms.

It’s been a while since I came in here, and that was a long time ago, back when I first arrived in Winter Lake. I remember it had five or six bedrooms.

There was a library with a bookcase I’d spent an evening examining, armchairs in front of a lit fireplace, and board games with small tables for guests to enjoy. As we pass the room, I stick my head in to discover not much has changed. There are a few more books in the bookcase, and newer board games, but it’s just as I remembered.

“You getting anything?” I quietly whisper to Bennett as I sniff out the room’s previous occupants. None of the scents are familiar and all are human.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Let’s check out the dining room.”

We follow the inaudible murmur of conversation and the savory, sweet scents of breakfast through the entryway and to a set of glass double doors that lead to the dining room.

Our arrival attracts glances from the few guests who have either returned from an early morning of sightseeing or are getting ready to head out for a hike or shopping this afternoon.

Other than the few round tables and a big glass chandelier, the room is free of suspicious guests who might have come toWinter Lake to cause trouble, and I don’t pick up the scent of the person who wandered onto my property last night.

We linger in the entryway, giving the dining room another sweep as footsteps approach from behind. “Mack, is everything all right?”

On the drive here, we briefly discussed a story should anyone ask what we were doing in the hotel, and I’m glad we did.

Backing out of the dining room, I smile at Sara Meacham, the petite, red-headed and brown-eyed owner of the hotel. “Just stopping by to find out if you had any rooms available next week. I have some relatives thinking of coming to town.”

The last time I stayed, her mother was the manager, and since she was older back then, probably in her late fifties or sixties, she must have retired and handed over the running of the place to her daughter.

Aerin’s aunt and my dad couldn’t make it to Aerin’s baby shower. When they eventually manage to deal with whatever issues they’re having in Virginia, they’re going to need somewhere to stay. Why not the hotel?

A long time ago, my dad was the Alpha of the Raleigh Pack. When he suddenly decided he didn’t want the responsibility anymore, he walked away. The pack imploded without him there to impose order. Not six months after he left, and there was no Raleigh Pack anymore, but the memory of what happened in Michigan lives on in shifter history.

I’m not sure he’s getting ready to run out on Ivy the way he did to me and the Raleighs, but I’m not sure why he’s being so cagey that he can’t just tell me what’s going on.

Ivy, Aerin’s aunt, and the woman I believe he has fallen in love with, is an omega who healed all the festering wounds in his soul with a single touch. Whatever is going on with them and the lack of answers has me worried. But if it’s nothing serious,then they’ll need somewhere to stay when they come up from Virginia.

Bennett bumps his shoulder with mine, the action returning me to the present.

While I’d been lost in my thoughts, he’s been standing, arms crossed, chatting to Sara about the weather and a charity event that someone is holding to raise money for the community center.

“It’s funny that you should stop by today,” Sara says, lowering her voice. “I had the strangest thing happen the other day.”

I perk up. So does Bennett.

“Strange how?” I ask.

“Strange as in someone rummaging around in the trash. At first I thought it was a fox. Seemed something an animal would do,” Sara explains. “Especially since we’re closer to Main Street than most other homes.”

“Until they did something an animal wouldn’t?” Bennett suggests.

Sara nods. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

We glance at each other, and I hope Chris was listening when I warned him not to follow any suspicious tracks he might have found.

I give the entryway another subtle sniff, since it’s a space where everyone has to pass to get to the rooms upstairs. It was the first thing I did when we arrived, but I want to be sure before we leave that we haven’t missed anything. Then I follow Sara out through the entryway and to a covered patio at the back of the hotel, where there are more seats for guests to eat outside if they want to.

Sara stops at the top of the patio and points down the backyard to the forest that backs up to most homes andbusinesses. Even from this distance, what she’s pointing at is unmistakable. “See those claws?”

---